


Tweetless

by puss_nd_boots



Category: SCREW (Band), the GazettE
Genre: Anal Sex, Lap Sex, Lap dancing, Light Bondage, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:43:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeking a remedy for their writer’s block, Aoi and Ruki hole up in a resort and vow to live without distractions – no Twitter, no video games, no sex. They didn’t plan on a certain two people showing up who just might have the cure for what ails them – in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tweetless

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the musical Love’s Labors Lost, which I saw last weekend in Central Park – basically, Shakespeare’s play in a modern setting with contemporary songs added. The play was set in a resort similar to this one – and, yes, there were drunken characters driving around in a golf cart.

It was with a mission that Aoi and Ruki checked into a suite at a rather nice resort just outside the hustle and bustle of the city – Western-style, not a hot spring. Hot springs would be a distraction – and distractions were exactly what they had come there to avoid.

“ALL distractions,” Ruki said, producing a big, metal strongbox. “We’re going to lock them all up until we get all the songs written.” He opened the box and began to load his computer, phone and iPod into it.

Aoi looked at him dubiously. “Phones, too?”

“Yes, phones!” Ruki said. “No Twitter! None at all! That’s distraction number one!” And he grabbed the phone right out of Aoi’s hand and dropped it in the box, adding, “I’ll have this, too” right before snatching his PSP from his pocket.

“But how are people supposed to get hold of us?” Aoi said, looking at the electronics in the strongbox as if they were amputated parts of his own body.

“I’ve given the office the main number of this resort and told them what room we’re in.” Ruki locked the box and shoved it way in the back of the closet, pocketing the key. He’d move it to a location unknown to Aoi later. “They’ve been told to contact us only if it’s an emergency. Otherwise? Absolute quiet. Except for these.” He grabbed Aoi’s acoustic guitar and pushed it toward him.

Aoi just stared at his normally beloved companion in songwriting and performance. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Aoi, we fucking shook hands on this before we left home,” Ruki said. “We have a gentleman’s agreement. We’re going to stay in this room and work until we have enough songs for the album.” He paused. “You don’t want to get shown up by Uruha, do you?”

And that’s what started this whole thing. They’d gone to a meeting a few days ago to discuss their upcoming album – and Uruha had happily produced a whole pile of possible songs. “They just came to me one after another,” he said, beaming with pride.

Aoi and Ruki had produced absolutely nothing. And Ruki concluded that the reason they hadn’t was too many distractions in their lives. It wasn’t a coincidence, he said, that Uruha didn’t have a Twitter, and he’d done all this songwriting.

Hence, their monastic-like retreat. No phones, no Twitter, no Internet, no television (Ruki had thrown the remote in the lockbox, too) and . . .

“You’re sure about the no fooling around part?” Aoi said.

“Absolutely no fooling around!” Ruki said. “You didn’t tell any of your harem of boy toys where you were going, did you?”

“No,” Aoi said. “Well, just that I’d be away for a couple of days.”

“Good,” Ruki said. “Now, once and for all, are you in?”

Aoi looked at the guitar, sighing. Ruki had a point about all the distractions. He’d been blocked lately. It was as if something were keeping him from hearing the voices of the muses. Maybe they really were getting drowned out in all the electronic clutter.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m in.”

“Good,” Ruki said. “Now, let’s start working.”

* * *

Kazuki was settling in quite nicely. The bar at this resort was feeling very much like home, and they’d been here less than a day.

He’d decided that his bandmates needed a couple of days to rest and recharge before starting their tour. So far, that had involved quite a bit of drinking. Well, not for all of them. Manabu had already retired for the evening, saying he was working on a song. Rui had been not long after him.

And now, Jin was yawning and starting to look at his watch. “I think I’m calling it a night,” he told Byou and Kazuki.

“What?” Kazuki said. “Call it a night? The night’s just started!”

“Maybe for you,” Jin said, getting up. “I want to get a few hours’ sleep before sunrise.” To Byou, he said, “Don’t let him destroy anything.”

“I’m not about to do that,” Byou said. “I don’t feel like being stuck with the bill.” Byou hadn’t exactly matched Kazuki drink for drink – in fact, he’d just nursed two beers, as opposed to the rather impressive stack of empties next to his bandmate. But he wasn’t ready to retire. He was feeling rather, well, restless tonight.

“I’ll wake you up if you haven’t appeared by dinner tomorrow,” Jin said. “Good night!” He headed out of the bar, leaving just two at their table.

Kazuki sighed. “Abandoned,” he said in a dramatic tone of voice peculiar to the extremely trashed. He looked over at Byou and said, “You’re not gonna run out on me too, are you?”

“No,” Byou said. “Not right now, anyway.”

“Good,” Kazuki said. “Because I . . .” He suddenly caught something out of the corner of his eye out the window. “Is that a golf cart?”

Byou looked in the direction of Kazuki’s gaze. “Looks like one.”

“Let’s take it out somewhere.” And before Byou could say anything, Kazuki had jumped up and was sprinting for the doorway.

Oh, crap. A drunken Kazuki piloting a golf cart? That couldn’t end well. Sure, the resort did supply some carts for the use of their guests, but it was with the understanding that the guests weren’t a few sheets to the wind. Make that an entire linen closet to the wind.

“Wait for me,” Byou called, running out after him. Maybe he could get to the cart first and start the engine before Kazuki could . . .

Too late. Kazuki had reached the cart already – bottle still in hand – and started the motor. All he could do was get in the passenger seat and get ready to grab the wheel if disaster seemed inevitable.

“Whoo!” Kazuki yelled as he took off. “This thing goes faster than I thought it would!” He began sailing down the road that led from the bar to the main lodging areas. Byou looked around nervously for people on the paths – fortunately, there were few out and about at this hour.

They came across the main residential buildings – four lodges built around a circle, which Kazuki began to drive around, and around, and around, to the point where Byou was starting to feel like he was on a spinning carnival ride. Kazuki was also starting to sing rather loudly, which made Byou hope that nobody would start throwing hard and heavy objects out their windows. Nobody seemed to be awake, except . . .

Except for one figure sitting in a lighted window on the upper floor of one of the lodges, playing a guitar and looking deep in concentration. One very familiar figure.

Kazuki spotted him too – and slammed on the brakes so hard Byou nearly flew onto the hood. “Well, I’ll be,” Kazuki said. “I wish I knew he was coming here!”

“Oh,” Byou said. “Your fuck buddy.”

“You better believe it, my fuck buddy!” Kazuki turned the cart toward the lodge, driving slowly across the lawn. “And if I had my way, he’d be more than a buddy.”

Just then, the curtains were pushed back from the suite’s balcony, and a small figure emerged from it. One just as familiar as the first had been.

“What the fuck is all that noise out there?” he said.

Well, well, speaking of fuck buddies. It was Byou’s own occasional bed partner – who he very often wished was more than occasional.

Kazuki stood up in the cart. “Hey, boys!” he called. “Come out and play!”

“Play?” Ruki said. “Fuck that! We came here to concentrate on writing songs, with no outside distractions. And you two are being one hell of a distraction.”

“All work and no play makes Aoi a dull boy,” Kazuki called up to them.

Ruki wheeled toward Aoi. “Why didn’t you tell me SCREW was coming to this resort?” he hissed.

“I thought it sounded familiar when we booked it,” Aoi said. “I guess that’s why.”

“Sure you’re not coming out?” Kazuki called. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“No, we’re not coming out!” Ruki said. “We’re busy. Very busy.”

“Suit yourself,” Kazuki called. “You’re missing out.”

“At least we know where you are,” Byou called over his shoulder as he drove away.

Ruki sighed and pulled the curtains shut. “Great,” he said. “Just fucking wonderful. Kazuki and Byou are both here.”

Aoi looked rather amused. “You seem upset about that,” he said.

“Fuck right I am!” Ruki sat back down in the chair on the other side of the room and picked up his own guitar. “This was supposed to be a retreat without anything getting in the way of songwring!”

“Sure it has nothing to do with who was in that cart with Kazuki?” Aoi said, smiling widely.

“Nothing at all!” Ruki snapped. “Come on, let’s get back to work.”

Aoi smirked to himself. He knew full well about the relationship between Ruki and Byou. He’d long suspected they both wanted to be more than casual fuck buddies. Not that Ruki would do anything about that here – not with his “gentleman’s agreement” and no-fooling-around clause.

Well, maybe that would have to wait for home, then. As for himself? He was going to find the loophole in that agreement and seek out Kazuki after Ruki had gone to bed. He peeked out the window to the other two lodges across the way. Yep, he could see where the golf cart was parked, and the one room that still had lights on. That’s where Kazuki was.

The one thing about a gentleman’s agreement is that Aoi had never really considered himself a gentleman.

* * *

Aoi paused in the melody he was playing for a moment, straining his ears. No, he heard no sound coming from the other bedroom of the suite. Good – that probably meant Ruki was asleep.

He needed the break, anyway. So far, the lack of distractions had produced a lot of little scraps of tunes, but nothing that would fit together to make a coherent whole. It was rather frustrating, really. It was like the idea was there, but it was, well, in hiding.

Maybe he’d feel better if he took a walk and cleared his head. And his balls. Whoops, he didn’t just think that.

He got up, reached for his key card and stuck it in his pocket. Fortunately, his bedroom and Ruki’s (well, Ruki was sleeping in what was technically the living room, on the fold-out couch, having expressed his disdain yet again for conventional hotel beds) each had their own entrances. He wouldn’t have to justify where he was going to his bandmate.

He chuckled as he was waiting for the elevator about how fortunate it was Kazuki had shown up here. Okay, Aoi had plenty of boy toy playmates – kohais were all too willing to drop their pants for him, and he had his pick of the crop. But there was just something about Kazuki that was, well, unique, and kept Aoi seeking out his company again and again.

Of course, right after he was with Kazuki, he’d always run back to another guy. Because that was just his style. Having a harem was part of being a superstar.

Once he was outside, he crossed the circular path in the middle of the lodges and looked for the golf cart. And lo and behold, the light was still on in that room, and a familiar figure was sitting right on the windowsill, alone, with a guitar.

Had Kazuki come here to write songs, too? No, he wouldn’t have been careening around in the golf cart like that if he had.

If Kazuki’s lodge was laid out like Aoi’s, then he’d know exactly where his room was. He took the elevator up to the second floor, counted the number of doors . . .

Right there. He raised his hand and knocked, and sure enough, the right person came to the door.

“Oh, hi,” Kazuki said. He looked and sounded like he’d sobered up a bit from when he was driving around crazily. “Thought you were writing songs?”

“It’s like you said,” Aoi said, stepping into the other man’s room, “All work and no play makes Aoi a dull boy. I was working, and now I’m ready to play.”

He kicked the door shut and pulled the other guitarist into his arms, bringing their lips together in a hot kiss.

What Ruki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

* * *

Byou was headed down one elevator as Aoi was going up the other. He’d heard Kazuki playing in the other room of their suite (and, yes, Byou was on the foldout couch as well, only for a much more pedestrian reason – he’d lost at rock-paper-scissors). He figured his bandmate was occupied enough so that he wouldn’t hear him slip out.

He’d paid attention to the location of Ruki’s room, and he was going over there now. He felt the need to talk to him. They hadn’t seen each other in awhile (well, they’d both been busy). Having him here was a lucky stroke – even if Ruki was bound and determined to lock himself in the dark with a guitar like some sort of mushroom.

Byou found the floor, like Aoi had, and knocked on the door – but got a lot less friendly welcome. Ruki yanked the door open and said, “And what do you want?”

“Aren’t I allowed to come in?” Byou said.

Ruki sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “I told you that I was writing songs.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Never mind,” Ruki said, too quickly.

“In other words – it’s not.” Byou slipped past Ruki, into the room, and shut the door.

“I didn’t say you could come in,” Ruki said, reaching for a pack of cigarettes on the low table. He found it empty, crumpled it up and flung it away in frustration.

“I didn’t realize I was a vampire,” Byou said, pulling out his own pack. “I figured I could cross the threshold without being invited.” He held it out to Ruki in offering.

Ruki would have smacked his hand away, but at this point, he needed the nicotine fix. He grabbed one cigarette, saying, “Thank you” – and then realizing Byou was holding out his lighter as well. He took it, sighed and flicked it into life. “Why the hell did you come here, anyway?”

“Since when am I not allowed to see you?” Byou said, sitting down in one of the room’s several armchairs.

“Since we decided to come here to avoid distractions,” Ruki said. “No phone, no Internet, no TV, no Twitter, no . . .”

“No success?” Byou picked up the notebook on the arm of the chair, filled with lyrics that were half-written, then crossed out, then started again.

“I’m working on it!” Ruki snapped. “The ideas are there. Sort of. They’re just not coming together.” He dropped down on the couch, wearily, and took a long drag. “I just need more time to think about them, that’s all.”

“Maybe . . .” Byou leaned over toward Ruki, running fingers up his arm. “You’ve been trying too hard.”

Ruki glared daggers at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means just what I said,” Byou said. “The ideas aren’t coming because you’ve been working so long and so hard that you’re locking up. You need to take a break. Relax. Maybe . . .” That hand on his arm again. “Get rid of some of that stress.”

And Ruki just sat there, trying to make himself stone as those fingers caressed him, trying to focus on his half-written lyrics, on his cigarette, on anything but the man next to him . . .

Of all the friends-with-benefits that could have shown up, why did it have to be Byou? The one person on the planet with the best chance of sabotaging his monastic-lifestyle-until-we-get-these-damn-songs-written plans?

He turned toward Byou – who had now left the chair and was moving in on him, sitting on the couch, like a predator about to pounce on juicy prey. And damn if Ruki wasn’t all too willing to be devoured. So much for the fucking gentleman’s agreement.

What was going on in Aoi’s side of the suite, anyway? It had gotten awfully quiet over there. He’d probably fallen asleep. Good. He’d tell him he’d dreamed any noises that he’d hear.

As Byou slid his fingers under Ruki’s jaw, tipping his head up slightly, Ruki said, “I didn’t exactly bring condoms and lube with me, you know.”

“I have some in my pocket,” Byou said, leaning in for the kill. Or a kiss. Never mind, they were one and the same.

And there went Ruki’s last line of defense. Sighing and putting his cigarette down, he said, “Why the fuck can’t I ever resist you?”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Byou said in barely above a whisper.

And then they were kissing, and suddenly, Ruki forgot why he was even objecting.

* * *

Getting Kazuki into bed was always a very easy thing. As in, all it took was one kiss, and within moments, their clothes were on the floor and they were all wrapped up in each other.

Tonight was no exception. Aoi found himself being propelled toward the hotel bed and pushed down on it, as Kazuki took a step back, ridding himself of shirt, pants and underwear in three swift motions. Well, he could only answer a speed strip show like that with one of his own, right?

By the time Kazuki lay down next to him, they were both completely naked. Conveniently enough, right? Aoi pulled the other man close, running his hand down along his side, to his back, where he paused, caressing.

“You have stuff?” he said. “Because I didn’t bring any.”

Kazuki reached over to the nighttable and produced a pack of condoms and bottle of lube. “You don’t have any?”

“Told you,” Aoi said, “we had a gentleman’s agreement. No Twitter, no video games, no sex. But fortunately for you . . .” He leaned over, his lips hovering above Kazuki’s. “I’m no gentleman.”

They kissed again, tongues slipping out to dance against each other, and Aoi let the hand that was on Kazuki’s back slip down, until it was caressing his ass. Kazuki let out a little moan.

“Oh, yes,” Aoi murmured when they broke for air, “this is a really nice distraction.” He squeezed the firm, hot cheek, and Kazuki wriggled against him. “You like when I do this.”

“God, yes,” Kazuki sighed. “Do it again.”

Aoi moved in for another kiss, and this time, he grabbed his bottom in both hands, squeezing hard. What a hot ass he had, so firm and tight. Just the kind of thing you wanted to feel against any part of you.

“Get on all fours,” he told Kazuki. “I want to see it.”

Kazuki obediently got into the position, lowering his head and shoulders to the mattress so his postierior would stick up more. “Like this?” he said, wiggling it a little.

“Oh, yes,” Aoi said. “Look at that.” He ran his hand over it, lightly. “That’s a sight for sore eyes. Your ass is almost as pretty as your face.” Aoi curled his fingers a little, so his nails scratched the sensitive flesh oh-so-lightly.

Kazuki jumped a little, gasping. “Aoi!”

“Oh, we found something new that you like?” And Aoi repeated the light scratching, using both hands this time, bringing another gasp. “Oh, we have. I’m going to have to remember that.” He let the hands move upward, scratching up his back, then back down again. “You’re a kinky boy.”

“Not that kinky,” Kazuki panted, looking over his shoulder.

“No?” Aoi said. “But you like this.” And he drew back his hand, giving Kazuki a light swat, making him yelp. “And this, too.” He bent over and gave one cheek a light nip.

“Oh!” Kazuki cried. “Aoi . . .”

“Thought so,” Aoi said, landing another firm smack. “You’re kinkier than you think. In fact . . .” He reached for his discarded shirt and picked it up, starting to twist it into an impromptu rope. “I’m going to try tying you up.”

He saw his lover look back at him again, with the eyes of someone at the summit of the roller coaster. Facing something unknown, and kind of scary, but at the same time, deliciously thrilling.

“I thought you’d like that,” Aoi said. “Now, lie back, with your arms over your head.” Fortunately, this hotel bed had carved wood bedposts; he’d have something to tie him to.

“Do I have to give you a safeword?” Kazuki said.

Aoi leaned over and kissed him. “Thought you weren’t kinky. You must be, if you know about that. Why don’t you tell me one, just in case?”

“Yebisu,” Kazuki said. “That’s my safeword.”

Well, that was a good one. Nobody would have any other reason to yell the name of a brand of beer during sex. “Yebisu it is,” Aoi said. “Now, lie back.”

Kazuki took the requested position, and Aoi looped the shirt around his wrists. “Are you comfortable?” Kazuki nodded in the affirmative. “Good.” He tied the other end around the bedpost, and leaned over, kissing his lips, reaching down with one hand to caress a nipple. He felt Kazuki shudder beneath him.

“The best audience,” Aoi murmured, “is a captive one.” He leaned over, taking the bud in his mouth and giving it a hard suck, drawing a moan from the other man. “Remind me to put a camera on you next time we do this.” A lick. “You need to see how sexy you are right now.”

He sucked on the nipple again, scraping it with his teeth, and Kazuki moaned, writhing a little, the bonds holding him tight. Aoi reached down with one hand, and down further still, until his fingers were lightly brushing over the cleft.

“Oh, I felt that reaction,” he murmured. “You’re thinking about me fucking you already.”

“God, yes!” Kazuki gasped.

“I can see it in your eyes,” Aoi said. “You like the idea of lying there with me in control of your pleasure.” He pulled the fingers away again. “I could deny you, you know. I could decide not to do anything at all.” And he backed away to emphasize what he was saying – and saw the little bit of panic in Kazuki’s eyes. He had to admit he got more than a bit of a thrill in return.

“But I’m not going to.” He reached for the lube. “Because in that regard?” He opened the bottle and started to coat his fingers. “I really am a gentleman.”

He bent over so his mouth was by the other man’s erection, and ran his tongue along the side as his finger began to gently probe. Kazuki moaned. “Oh, yes!”

Aoi slowly licked up the front of his lover’s cock, feeling the slight curve, the texture that was unique to him alone. Funny how all his other lovers seemed interchangeable, but he remembered and cherished every detail of Kazuki, every inch of his hot body.

His finger moved in and out of that hot, tight ass, opening him up, getting him ready. And that felt so good, too, he was so soft in there, so welcoming, so very made for him . . .

The second finger pushed in just as his mouth enveloped the tip of his lover’s cock, and now Kazuki was really writhing against his bonds. “Please . . . Aoi, please . . .”

“Tell me. “ Aoi thrust the fingers in and out, scissoring them gently, as his tongue traced patterns on the hard organ. “Tell me what it is you want.”

“Fuck me,” Kazuki moaned.

“How do you want me to do it?” And the third finger pushed in.

“Hard,” Kazuki moaned. “I want to feel you so deep . . .”

“You’ll get it,” Aoi said, pushing the fingers in further, moving them a little, then sliding them out. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your mouth.” He reached for the condom, rolling it on and quickly lubing. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Ask nicely again.” He brought his cock to Kazuki’s entrance.

“Please!” Kazuki cried. “Please fuck me, Aoi!”

“Good boy.” And Aoi began to push in, sucking in his breath at the sensation. Kazuki definitely didn’t feel like any of his other lovers. His body seemed to grip him, pull him in, envelop him.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Aoi murmured, leaning over to rest his head on the other man’s chest, because it was that damn good, that overwhelming, being inside him. Hell, it was almost humbling, the power of that man’s sexuality. Aoi might act the dominant in their lovemaking, but when they were together, he was firmly under Kazuki’s thrall.

He raised his head and looked at him, at the expression of bliss on the man’s face as he lay there, tied to a hotel bedpost, covered with sweat. He was just so goddamn beautiful.

And he leaned over, kissing his lips softly, and started to move his hips, a slow, gentle thrust to start. Had to let his lover get used to them being joined, to the sweet, welcome invasion . . .

He began to thrust harder, and faster, looking down at Kazuki again, watching his lips part moistly in a gasp and moan, starting to writhe and move in concert with Aoi’s motions. It really was like they could read each other’s thoughts in moments like this, they were so much on the same wavelength.

His hips were starting to pump now, thrusting in and out of that tight passage, each plunge sending a wave of shivers through his body. “So gorgeous,” he moaned. “So fucking beautiful . . . Kazuki . . .” He reached down and wrapped his fingers around the other man’s cock, stroking it, wanting to hear the other guitarist moan louder . . . and Kazuki didn’t disappoint, letting out a sound that nearly made Aoi come.

“I’m close . . .” Kazuki gasped. “Oh, Aoi . . .”

Aoi quickly started to rub his thumb over the tip. “Come,” he murmured. “Come on, love, let me hear it . . .”

And Kazuki arched forward, letting out the loud cry Aoi wanted, his come pouring hotly between their bodies. Aoi kept thrusting hard, feeling the hot channel clutch around him, feeling pushed closer and closer to his own edge . . .

Finally, he felt himself tense, then release, hot ecstasy exploding from the bottom of his soul as he cried Kazuki’s name out, coming in long, intense waves.

Orgasms were always more intense with him than with anyone else.

He fell down on Kazuki’s chest, panting, and felt the other man stir under him . . . oh, yeah, he was still tied up, wasn’t he? Aoi had to do something about that . , .

In a moment. Right now, he was just going to lie there, blissfully, and enjoy the moment.

“Aoi?” Kazuki said. “Can you still move?”

Aoi raised his head, and mumbled, “Barely.”

“You’re right,” Kazuki said. “I’m kinkier than I thought I was.”

Aoi finally sat up and started to undo the makeshift bonds. “I’m going to get something better for this next time,” he said. “Silk scarves, maybe. Or I’ll go to the sex shop and get those handcuffs that fasten to the bedpost.”

“I’d love that,” Kazuki said. When he was free of the shirt, he rubbed his wrists a little. “And, Aoi? I’m really glad you showed up here.”

“Not as glad as I am that you did.” Aoi went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and bring back a rag to clean them both off.

He meant it more than he realized. In this weekend of no distractions, he’d just had the most delicious distraction one could imagine.

* * *

Ruki didn’t want to think too hard about how he’d gone from “totally distraction-free weekend, with nothing but songwriting” to “making out on a hotel couch with Byou with both of us naked as the day we were born.”

Thinking about it would ruin the way that Byou was licking and sucking at his neck right now. Oh, and biting. That was some very nice teeth action right there.

“You sound like you want more,” Byou murmured, raising his head.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” said Ruki with a husky voice.

“Maybe the idea that you’re making noises like this?” Byou reached down and pinched a nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger, making Ruki cry out.

“Stop that,” Ruki gasped.

“Stop what?” Byou pinched the other nipple. “This?”

“Aaah!” Ruki cried.

“Or this?” And Byou leaned over and nipped Ruki’s neck, just hard enough to be right on the border between pain and pleasure – the most delicious place of them all.

Ruki let out another cry. “What am I going to do with you?” he panted.

“I’ve got some ideas,” Byou said.

“Maybe I’ve got ideas of my own,” Ruki said.

“Let’s see, then,” Byou said.

And without any kind of prologue or warning Ruki stood up, turned around and sat in Byou’s lap, so his ass was pressed against the other man’s erection. He began to move, a stripperlike bump and grind, rubbing the firm flesh against the hard length – but not letting it get into the cleft.

He wanted to tease. Byou wasn’t getting it all – yet.

“Mmm,” Byou said as Ruki leaned back against him, his head on Byou’s shoulders, his body pressed tight against the other man’s as his hips continued to pump, rubbing against him, creating constant friction. Oh, fuck, he was managing to tease himself at the same time, because it just made him want that thing inside him.

He was panting now, reaching an arm back to wrap around Byou’s neck as his hips started to churn harder and faster, and he was aware of the other man lifting his ass off the couch, moving along with him. Both of them were moaning, as much from the tease, the anticipation of more, as from the sensation of sensitive flesh on sensitive flesh.

“Stand up,” Byou murmured. “Turn around.”

Ruki reluctantly eased off his lap, and did what he was told, hands braced on the back of the couch, ass in the air. Byou stood up next to him and ran his hand down Ruki’s back to his ass, down his legs, and back up again.

“You’re so hot,” Byou said. “Not just how you look.”

Ruki looked over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“It’s the way you fuck.” Byou reached around Ruki’s body, fingers lightly ghosting over his erection, making Ruki shudder. “You give yourself over to it, completely. You make your lover feel like pleasing him is the most important thing in the world.” He swatted Ruki’s ass, lightly.

“Ah!” Ruki cried.

“And the more you do that?” Byou reached for the lube. “The more I want to please you.” He leaned over and began to push one lubed finger into Ruki’s entrance – but he also ran his tongue along one cheek, from bottom to top. “The more you make me moan, the more I want to make you moan.”

Another finger, and Ruki let out the moan Byou wanted to hear. “You’re too damn good, you know that?”

“And you love it.” Byou was thrusting his fingers in and out, and Ruki was leaning forward, letting out pleasure noises.

“Yes, dammit!” Ruki hissed. Oh, my God, he was pushing his hips backward, fucking this man’s fingers, needing to take them all. He moaned when the third finger entered, not caring if the man tried to push his whole hand in, because at this point, Ruki would gladly take it.

Byou stopped at three fingers, though, sliding them out and putting the condom on – then sitting on the couch again. “I’ll bet I know what you want to do now,” he said.

Ruki didn’t even give him a chance to vocalize it. He turned around and started to settle in the other man’s lap, like he did before – but this time, he pressed Byou’s erection right into his cleft and moved down, taking it in his body.

Oh, what a delicious sensation. Byou didn’t feel like anyone Ruki had ever been with before. The bastard seemed to be shaped just to hit every one of Ruki’s sensitive spots. And with Ruki like this, in control of the angles, and the thrusting . . .

He was in the driver’s seat. And yet, he was surrendering to this man at the same time – under his spell. Give and take, a perfect exchange. And it was a dance that, dammit, they were very good at together.

Ruki moved down, and down, until he had all he could take inside him. He paused, tipping his head back, and Byou pulled his head toward him, kissing him hotly, their tongues rubbing against each other.

He began to thrust, rising up off the wonderful, hard thing, then moving back down on it, feeling it stroke him from the inside with every little motion. The most intimate kind of lap dance. And Ruki increased the tempo, starting to move down on the other man harder, faster. He changed the angle of his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more of every kind of pleasure Byou had to give.

And, oh, could he give pleasure. Byou’s fingers were everywhere – on his nipples, stroking and kneading and pinching, moving down his stomach to his thighs, caressing, kneading, running the thumbs down the most sensitive spots on the inside.

As Ruki began to thrust harder and faster still, impaling himself on the lovely thing within him, Byou moved one hand upward, fingers wrapping around Ruki’s cock, starting to pump rapidly. Ruki threw his head back, letting out a loud moan, then another, his hand reaching around to grab something, anything of Byou’s, arm finally wrapping around his neck and pulling their heads together . . .

When the climax hit him, it was an explosion so intense that he literally saw a field of white – something that had never happened before. He cried Byou’s name as ecstasy shook his whole body in delicious waves that seemed to go on and on forever.

He felt Byou raising his hips, thrusting hard into his body a few more times, and then he let out a cry nearly as loud and intense as Ruki’s, his body shuddering under his lover’s.

When it was over, Ruki leaned back, and they shared a soft kiss. Ruki dropped his head onto Byou’s shoulder and just snuggled.

This felt nice. Warm. Natural. Like they were supposed to be like this.

“I’m not moving,” Ruki murmured. “At least, not for another year or so.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Byou said, stroking his hair, gently.

Ruki yawned. Okay, he’d have to get up long enough to clean them up – fortunately, there was a half-bathroom off the living room, and that was all they’d need right now. But that was it. And after that, they were going to snuggle again and sleep.

His original plans were blown to hell, of course. And right now, he didn’t care one bit.

* * *

Aoi stirred and rolled over, mumbling a little. His eyes opened, and it look him a moment to realize where he was. Apartment? No, resort. Ruki’s idea. Songwriting, no distractions.

Except there was a very beautiful distraction lying right next to him.

A combination of the moonlight and the streetlights along the circular path shone through the window, illuminating Kazuki’s still-sleeping form. He seemed sweet and innocent like this – even with the piercings.

Aoi smiled as he ran his fingers over the other man’s hair. This was always such a welcome sight. Kazuki was the kind of guy you liked to have beside you first thing in the morning. Some lovers got surly and grouchy by dawn’s early light, like you were merely an annoyance in their morning now that the fucking was done.

Not Kazuki. He always greeted you with a smile and a heartfelt “Good morning,” followed by a kiss. And then followed by making you coffee – even if he was hung over. (It was no coincidence that Kazuki got more morning sex than any of Aoi’s other lovers).

Oh, yeah, he could get used to having that every morning of his life, couldn’t he? Wait – what was he thinking? He was a superstar playboy, wasn’t he? He was living the another-night-another-playmate lifestyle. He was going to get back to that after they got back from this retreat, wasn’t he?

He chuckled to himself. And why the fuck was he worrying about that? He was going to just take things as they came – in this moment, at least. He’d worry about the future when the future got here.

But for now . . . he was just going to gaze at this lovely creature some more. And stroke his hair, humming to himself . . .

It was a fragment of a melody he’d been working on before. And as he sat there, caressing his lover, he suddenly realized he was continuing with it. The tune that had been stalled before was now writing itself.

He jumped up, grabbing for the guitar that Kazuki had left on the windowsill. Yes, yes, he could work out chords to it now! It was just flowing from him like a river! It felt natural, like the song really had been inside him all along waiting for something to bring it out.

And Ruki thought that what Aoi needed was a lack of distractions? No. He just needed one, very specific one.

Kazuki stirred, opening his eyes. “Aoi? What’s going on?”

Aoi raised his head. “Do you have any kind of recorder on you?”

“On my computer,” Kazuki said, sitting up. “Why?”

“Turn it on. I need you to get this.”

Kazuki booted up his computer and attached his recording mike, and Aoi played the tune straight through. Yes, it had a beginning, a middle and an ending now! And then, as soon as he finished that, suddenly, another tune came flowing from him, another formerly half-written scrap of melody.

It was like giving birth, only without pain, just pleasure. Aoi was feeling like the repository of all the songs in the universe. And the more he looked at Kazuki, the more he saw that beautiful face beaming at him, the more easily the tunes seemed to flow.

When he finally finished, he sat there with the guitar, eyes closed, for some time. Then, he opened them and looked at Kazuki – who was beamng.

“Wow,” he said. “I wish it were this easy for me!”

“Hey, what can I say?” Aoi put the instrument down, wrapped his arms around Kazuki and kissed him. “I didn’t get to be a superstar for nothing.” He raised his head. “Okay, it isn’t always quite that easy. I had a little inspiration.”

“What kind?” Kazuki laughed.

“Oh, you know what kind,” Aoi said. “An ass this sweet doesn’t come along every day.” He gave Kazuki another kiss. “Neither does a person as sweet as the rest of you.”

“Aoi . . .” Kazuki leaned his head on his shoulder.

“We can probably get one more round before I have to go back over there, you know,” Aoi said, nodding his head toward the other lodge.

“Do you have to?”

Aoi nodded. “Ruki and his damn ‘gentleman’s agreement.’ I have to pretend I was over there all night.” He leaned his head against Kazuki’s. “Wait’ll he hears my songs, thought. He’s going to want to know how I finished them, and I’m not telling.”

Kazuki raised his head, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Can we go over to your place for round two, then? So we can test out both beds? I’ll come back here afterward.”

“I like the way you think,” Aoi said. “Come on, let’s get dressed.”

He was humming the tune he’d written all the way across the street, arm tightly wrapped around Kazuki. And then, an idea was slowly rising in the back of his mind – what if the reason he couldn’t fully hear the voice of the muse before, when he’d been blocked, was because he couldn’t fully hear the voice of his heart?

* * *

Across the way, Ruki was having a similar epiphany.

He’d woken up (in the foldout bed, which Byou had opened when he was in the bathroom) feeling extremely comfortable – more comfortable than he could ever remember feeling in any kind of hotel bedding. At all. Of course, that might have something to do with the warm body he was snuggled against.

He turned over, nestling closer against Byou. Okay, so he’d had a distraction. It was just a momentary one, right? He’d leave in the morning, and Ruki would go back to writing without anything else getting in the way.

Except he didn’t want this distraction to end. It felt too nice, and warm, and, well, natural. Like it was the right thing to do.

He opened one eye and looked over at the flung-aside notebook, the one Byou had been looking at a seeming eternity ago. Yes, he’d get to that later.

The first couple of likes of one of the incomplete lyrics ran through his head. And to his surprise, they kept going. New words were attaching themselves, forming phrases, linking together into stanzas . . .

And it wasn’t just words. He was starting to hear the melody that went along with them, too. Oh, fuck, what was happening? It was like his brain had been a tightly-closed vault that was now starting to open, little by little.

He wasn’t arguing. Or fighting. Fuck, no. He was just getting that damn notebook and pen and getting this down, now. And then, he was breaking his own agreement and getting out his computer so he could record the music.

It was incredible. It was almost as if being close to Byou had finally smashed the block that was in his head. Melting the ice, as it were.

When Byou woke up, it was to the sound of Ruki strumming a guitar. He sat up, blinking. There the other man sat, wearing nothing but his underwear, very clearly making music.

“Thought you could only be creative without distractions,” he said.

“So did I,” Ruki said. “Now hush, you’re ruining the recording.”

Byou just sat there with a knowing smile as Ruki sang a complete song into the computer, and then another, and then another. And he couldn’t help but think what a beautiful sight it was. Not just because Ruki himself was beautiful, but because there was so much joy coming from him right now. He was reveling in what he was creating, in his own power over the music.

But there was something else to it. And Byou was beginning to wonder if Ruki was beginning to find as much pleasure in being with him as he’d always taken in being with Ruki.

When he finished singing, Ruki put the guitar down, taking a deep breath. “I’ve never had that happen before,” he said.

“What?” said Byou. “Spontaneously writing songs?”

Ruki nodded. “They don’t usually come pouring out of me like a fucking waterfall. I . . . I just don’t believe . . .”

Byou took his hand, “Maybe there’s something special about the way you wrote them,” he said.

Ruki blinked at him, squeezing the hand. Oh, fuck. Something special . . . right before this happened, he was thinking of how comfortable he felt with Byou, how warm and nice . . .

And suddenly, that felt natural, and right, too. Fuck. He’d been barking up the wrong tree all along about what he needed to write, hadn’t he? Or, rather, who he needed . . .

“Only one way to find out,” he said, leaning into the other man for a kiss.

* * *

“Oh, hell,” Aoi said as soon as they arrived in the room, “I’m empty.” He withdrew his hand from his pocket and held up an crumpled back of cigarettes.

“I can give you one of mine,” Kazuki said.

“No, I got a few more packs,” Aoi said. He opened the nighttable drawer – nothing. Then the bureau drawers, one by one . . . “Crap, I think I left them in my suitcase.” He pointed to the other room. “Which is over there.” He pulled out his key card, which opened both the front door and the door connecting his room to Ruki’s. “I’ll be real quiet. God forbid I wake the _gentleman_ up.”

He unlocked the door, pushed it open . . . and was rewarded with the sight of Byou and Ruki sucking face on the bed pulled out from the couch, both wearing nothing but underwear. So much for the gentleman’s agreement.

“Ruki?” he said, loudly, causing the other man to jump a mile in the air.

The vocalist whirled around toward his bandmate, saying, “Aoi!” Oh, shit. Caught red-handed.

“Aoi?” said Byou. And then, Aoi’s companion came into the room, wanting to see what was going on. “Kazuki?”

“Byou?” said Kazuki. Then, looking over at his bandmate’s companion, “Ruki?”

“Kazuki?” Ruki said. Then, sharply at his bandmate, “Aoi!”

And then followed an awkward silence, which was broken by Kazuki jumping up, grabbing Byou’s arm and leading him back toward Aoi’s room. “Come on – we’re going to let these two talk. I think they need to.”

As soon as they were gone, Ruki whirled on Aoi. “We had an agreement.”

“So we did,” Aoi said. “And it looks like we both broke it. Unless you want to try telling me you were just giving him directions around the complex – with both of you naked.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ruki sighed, running a hand over his hair. “He just came to the door. I was going to send him away, but . . .”

“But you couldn’t resist,” Aoi said.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” Ruki snapped.

“Not much I can say,” Aoi said. “I got bored, I figured out where he was, I went to see him. We had fun, we came back here.” He headed for the closet, the suitcase and the cigarettes – which was why he’d come in here in the first place.

“After we agreed that we would live without . . .”

“Look, about that distraction thing?” Aoi said, tearing the pack open. “Let me tell you what happened after we fucked. I started writing. No, not just writing. It was like it was all pouring out of me, like a waterfall. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. “

And all this was sounding very familiar to Ruki. He turned his head toward Aoi, slowly. “You, too?”

“So you did the same thing, huh?” Aoi said.

“It was like everything had been held back,” Ruki said, “and it came out all at once. And it felt so damn good . . .” He gestured to Aoi that he wanted to bum one of his cigarettes. First Byou’s, now Aoi’s. He needed to buy more – but that was the last of his concerns right now.

“And it was because of him, wasn’t it?” Aoi said. “It was like he was what I needed.” And now that he thought about it, how many spontaneous bouts of creativity had he experienced after being with Kazuki? Most his best recent work was done that way.

Ruki shifted uncomfortably. “Get out of my head,” he said, reaching for his lighter.

“I don’t have to be in there,” Aoi said. “Because your head and my head are in the same place.” He sat on the bed next to Ruki. “Neither one of us makes a very good gentleman.”

Ruki took a deep drag from his smoke. Aoi was right, dammit. It was Byou he needed – and for more than writing. Being with him was making him realize how much he missed him when they were apart. “So our agreement was a failure.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Aoi said. “We both wrote, didn’t we? It’s what we set out to do. Besides – going without Twitter and that stuff for awhile was good for me. Because, well – all those distractions were keeping me from seeing what I really wanted. What I really needed.”

“We really are in the same boat, aren’t we?” Ruki said. “So, what happens now?”

“What happens is I go back to Kazuki’s room with him and you stay here with Byou, and we make the most of every minute we’re with them.”

Ruki rubbed his hand over his head. “We’re going to need condoms and lube.”

“You need cigarettes anyway,” Aoi said. “There’s a combini across the street from this place.”

Hopefully, Ruki thought, not one with blabby employees. “And then, when we go home?”

Aoi crushed out his cigarette. “I’m going to let the other kohais down easy,” he said. “But they gotta understand - Kazuki’s it for me.” Maybe, he thought, for life.

“At least I don’t have a harem to disappoint,” Ruki said. Just a few other casual lovers, and they’d be understanding to be sure. “I guess you’ll be wanting your phone back now.” He went in the closet for the lockbox.

“Actually?” Aoi said. “I don’t. I don’t want Twitter distracting me from him.”

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Ruki said. Especially considering how Aoi had flipped out over the initial phone confiscation.

“I know what my priorities are,” Aoi said. “Okay, I’m going, and I’m sending Byou back in here. You can use my bed, by the way. It’s a lot better for fucking than that is.” He pointed at the foldout bed.

“How generous,” Ruki said. More hotel bedding. But, hell, it would be worth it to have more time with Byou.

And there was one more thing he nearly corrected Aoi on. Neither couple was merely fucking anymore, were they? They’d made the transition to making love.

* * *

It was departure day. SCREW was getting on their bus and going on tour. Aoi and Ruki were going home to share their new songs with the band – and both of them had written a few more during their time at the resort.

The two couples stood by the bus, surrounded by suitcases. Kauzki pulled Aoi into an embrace. “Will you wait for me?” he said.

“Hell, yeah,” Aoi said. “I’m not going to look at another guy when you’re gone.” He meant it, too. “Hit me up on Skype at night. I’m very good at video sexting.”

Ruki, meanwhile, had his head buried in Byou’s chest. “Text me soon as you get there,” he said.

“Worrying about me already?” Byou said.

“Aren’t I allowed to?” Ruki looked up at him. “Look, I just want to talk to you, okay?”

“We’ll talk. And then, when I get back?” He leaned in toward Ruki. “We’ll do MORE than talk.”

The two couples kissed goodbye, and Byou and Kazuki got on the bus. Aoi and Ruki stood there, waving to them, until it disappeared from sight. Then, they both heaved big sighs.

“This is the only bad part about having come here,” Aoi said. “That it had to end.”

Ruki just silently agreed. He turned around to go back to their suite. They had to get their bags and wait for the car the office was sending for them.

Aoi slung an arm around Ruki’s shoulders. “You know, I just realized why Uruha was able to write all those songs, and we couldn’t.”

“What is it?” Ruki said.

“He’s living with Kai,” Aoi said. “They’re happy together.” They’d been like that for several months, in fact. “Guess he always knew what we had to come here to find out.”

“We’re not going to tell him that,” Ruki said.

“No,” Aoi said. “But we’re going to tell him how happy we are. Because right now? I wish I could tell the whole world.”

Yes, they’d had to clean out the distractions, the clutter, that were keeping them from seeing the truth – to hear the voice of the muse, you had to first listen to the voice of the heart.


End file.
